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" Like a wireless operator on a sinking steamer that through the night and the 
darkness sends the last calls : ' Quickly ! To our aid ! We are sinking ! Save our 
Souls ! -so also I moved by my faith in human clemency throw into the dark 
space my prayer of perishing human beings . . . Quickly ! Come quickly ! 

173, Fleet Street, E.G. 4. 






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Save yjur S 



An Appeal to the Allies 


Leonid Andreiev 

\ ' 

Introduction by Prof. P, N. Miliukov 

{Late Foreign Minister of the Provisional Government). 


Edited by the Russian Liberation Committee and the Union of th^ 

Russian Commonwealth. 




By Prof. P. N. Miliukov. 

,, ^V'^-"°,' "ecessary to introduce Leonid Andreiev to 
the British public. Leonid Andreiev is no stran<^er * 
But a tew introductory remarks, intended to °helD 
the reader to a better understanding of the remarkable 
aocument betore him, ina\- not be out of place 

rii,T'\'^'"^''T'' '''r?'^^ °*' '^^^ t'™ prominent men 
01 letters (the other is Gorki) representing a generation 
which can no more be called voung, but is bv half a 
century vounger than that of 'our renowned novelists 
lolstoy, rurgeniev and Dostovevskv. This generation 
was born and has grown up m a Russia liberated from 
serfdom (1861), and amidst a struggle for political 
treedom Leonid Andreiev (born 1871) and Maxim 
(-Torki (born 1869) are highlv representative of two 

.JJ'h"""^ Aiidreiev's works are nearly all translated into Ei<,lish HiTfiret 
tales have appeared in two "ditions. u^usu. xiis met 

Xni^']^'"^'^^'' •'"^>"^1'"«'<> '^.v Alexandra Linden, London. Fislier 

tSated Lv R i T ^^^^^^^o^^^ of a LittJe Man during Great Davs." 

translated Ua K. b. Townsend. L<jndon. Duckworth & ConiBanv -1917 ,hnth 
charactensinrr his attitude towards the AYorld's War^ company, iy.7 (both 

^.J'^'^'^i^Tu \'^ traicedy in seven scenes, translated bv Herm m Bernstein 
New \ork. The Macniillan Companv. 1910 ' -bei.vtem, 

•; Juda^ Iscariot " translated by 'W. H. Lowe. London. Fr. Griffith. 1910 
The Ci-ushed Flower and other Stories/' L. Duckworth. 1917 " 

Juli^wSrL^dri^nd^^s^r^^"^ ^^^-^^^"-"^^ "^ -- -^^ ^--^^ted by 

different currents among the Russian intellectuals of 
this generation. Their personal characteristics empha- 
sise and make clear the contrast which, under the 
conditions of the present World War, has evolved 
into open controversy, and finished with both of (-hem 
taking sides in the great struggle now going on for 
Russia's future. . 

Maxim Gorki, born in a tradesman's family, does not 
quite belong to the lowest social strata, whose spokes- 
man he considers himself to be. For a time, indeed, 
he was a real tramp; though not, of course, of the type 
described and advertised by Mr. Stephen Graham. His 
education was meagre and chiefly based on a desultory 
course of reading. He displays a good deal of common 
sense, and he excels in realistic description which he 
knows how to combine with romantic exaggeration. 
But he has not shown himself capable of abstract 
thought, and so far as general ideas are concerned, he 
has modestly followed the lead of those who were 
regarded by his generation as the great luminaries of 
a future humanity. 

It is quite different with Leonid Andreiev. With the 
fine face of an artist and a highly refined personality, 
thin-skinned and over-sensitive, Andreiev belongs by 
birth to the middle class. He graduated at the 
X'niversity of Moscow, and is a lawver by profession, 
although he has never practised. In no sense of the 
word a politician and, as may be seen from this appeal, 
not in the least a diplomatist. Leonid Andreiev has 
a keen sense of his duties as a citizen. Every great 
event or aspect of Russia's struo'gle for freedom was 
alwavs calculated to elicit a thrilling response from the 
depths of his soul. Russian men of letters have never 
heen looked on by public opinion as merely professional 
writers of fiction. They have rather been expected to 
lead the rising generations in the capacity of " Teachers 
of Life." This, though in a lesser degree than before, 
is still the case with Andreiev's and Gorki's generation. 
In a period of fin de siecle individualism, both of them 
were still expected to follow the general trend of the 
former Russian intellectual tradition. Gorki did so: 
Andreiev failed. His vanity— if he has any— is not so 


much to follow acknowledged authorities as to state 
and to solve world problems in his own way. 

Both ^xorki and Andreiev reached the summit of 
their literary renown at one bound by publishing short 
sketches which showed their talent at its best. In 
Gorki's case this was much easier, because he claimed 
to be the Columbus of a new social world, that of his 
iellow-tramps, who were then supposed to number the 
best specimens of Russian democracy in their ranks. 
To be sure, he has had predecessors in our " populists " 
of the " sixties," like Levitov, Nicholas Uspensky and 
others. But it is well known that a new truth is often 
an old one., well forgotten. In Gorki's glorification of 
the tramp, however,"^ there was something really new. 
He looks with scorn on the Russian peasantry, the idols 
of the "populists," as being too passive and too 
Phihstine. Instead of them he extols the dregs of the 
working class, who embody for him both Marx's 
proletarians and Nietzsche's supermen, born for 
absolute freedom and ready to fight for it. 

Andreiev^s claim to attention from his contemporaries 
is quite different, and more complicated. He purposely 
chooses his topics, not from an unknown world, but 
from every-day life. It is here that he seeks for the 
unknown, while trying to discover a deeper meaning 
in everydav reality, a meaning unnoticed by the 
ordinary observer. " Everything that happens is for 
Andreiev a problem, psychological and philosophical; 
or rather, he looks on the most trifling occurrence as 
a manifestation of one single problem, which torments 
his soul; the problem of human aloofness, sohtude in 
The midst of the most conventional phenomena of every- 
day sociability. Here are, for instance, four partners 
playing bridge in their club, '' in winter and summer, 
in spring and in autumn.'' They think they know each 
other quite well, but they never learn — nor wish to learn 
— anything about each other's inner life, about, so to 
say, the human side of them. One day, one of the four 
dies unexpectedly, during a game. His place will be 
taken by another. ... It dawns upon his partners 
that the dving man will never Jnioiv how good were the 
cards he had been dealt at the moment of his apoplectic 

seizure. . . . This is the least tragic among Leonid 
Andreiev's tales, but his problem is there. The domi- 
nating feature of his writings is a great fear of solitude 
and an eager yearning for human solidarity-— moral, 
not economic." Like Diogenes of old, Andreievis always 
seeking for a " man,'' for linking and cementing factors 
in the human being. He generally misses them, but 
he is never tired of asking for them again and again. 
This is his last refuge. One can see him recur to it also 
m this Appeal to the Allies— far as its realistic aim is 
from Leonid Andreiev's customary symbolism. 

* ^ * # =* =^ 

Let us now turn to another point which may help to 
a better understanding of the Appeal— the attitude of 
both Andreiev and of Gorki toward the World's War. 
It is during this war particularly that the great diverg- 
ence of views between the two eminent novelists has 
manifested itself. They took opposite sides, thus repre- 
senting two currents of public opinion in Russia, which 
quite correspond to the same manifestations of public 
thought in all the warring countries. 

Maxim Gorki has become— or rather has remained 
what he was formerly— a " defeatist." The dread of 
victorv and the desire for defeat in war is not a new 
attitude among a certain group of Russian Socialists 
and Intellectuals. We can trace it back not onlv to 
the Russo-Japanese, but even to the Crimean War. 
Russian ''defeatism" is not produced by the anti- 
patriotic or the anti-mihtarist propaganda of later 
times; it is rather a result of a century long struggle 
against autocracv. Our Intellectuals have but too often 
confounded the form of. State' Governments, which they 
were bent on destroying, with the State itself. Thus 
a strange form of patriotism has evolved in Russia, 
which ulider better conditions is bound to be replaced 
bv a more normal manifestation of a man's love for his 
count rv. Mr. Lenin has as yet found enough of this 
traditional " defeatism " to form a basis for his 
Bolshevist aspirations. This is how he describes the 

Bolshevist attitude toward the war at its very begin- 
ning (October, 1914). " In the actual state of affairs 
it is impossible, from the point of view of the Inter- 
national proletariat, to say which would be the lesser 
evil for Socialism — an Austro-German defeat or a 
Franco-Russo-English defeat. But for us, Russian 
Social-Democrats, there can be no doubt that the .... 
lesser evil would be a defeat of the Tsarist Monarchy. 
. . . r'^ We cannot ignore the fact that the issue of the 
military operations one way or another will facilitate 
or hamper our work of liberation in Russia. And we 
say, Yes. We hope for the defeat of Russia, because it 
will facilitate the internal victory of Russia." 

This extremist view has called forth indignant pro- 
tests even from prominent leaders of Russian Socialism 
and Anarchism such as Geors^e Plekhanov and Peter 
Kropotkin, Bourtsev, Alexinsky and others. Says 
Kropotkin : " No one who does not deliberately close 
his eyes can fail to understand why a man who has the 
progress of humanity at heart, and who does not allow 
his ideas to be obscured bv interest, habit or sophistry, 
could possibly hesitate. We cannot but desire the final 
oefeat of Germany. We cannot even remain neutral : 
under the present circumstances neutrality means 
complicity." Russia — even Socialistic Russia, even the 
working class, was not with Lenin, but with Kropotkin. 
A German Socialist organ publishes the follow^ing 
authoritative statement from Russia, written in 
October, 1914 : " A great majoritv of Russian citizens, 
and among them many Social-Democrats, are convinced 
that Germany is waging an aggressive war while Russia 
is defending herself from a German invasion. . . . 
The war is becoming more and more popular in Russia. 
. . . The present situation bears no resemblance to 
that which existed ten years ago (during the Russo- 
Japanese War). The war was then a dynastic war, 
while to-day we are witnessing a people's war. . . ." 
And the Organising Committee of the Russian Socialist 
Democratic party publishes an official communication 
from Russia, according to which " there is no desire 
that Russia should be defeated to be observed among 
the working classes." 

It IS Gorki's newspaper. "' The Xew Life," which is 
largely responsible for the change of this initial state 
of opinion. In each day's leading article '"' The Xew 
Life" persistently attacked "" The Anglo-French 
Coalition ' while trying to prove that "we are ail 
guilty of this crime " of war, and that an attempt to 
explain it as a struggle for freedom and culture can 
only plea-se the '"Cabinet Autocracy*' in England, 
which " is turning so-called parliamentary government 
into the worst of tyrannies. ' ' If we are to believe certain 
documents published on '" The German-Bolshevik Con- 
spiracy," the zeal of "'The Xew Life " in attacking 
the Allies was rewarded in August, 1917, from the 
fund of the German Social-Democracy with a gift of 
150,000 crowns, as '" falling in entirelv with the aims 
of the party." 

Quite an opposite course has been taken bv Leonid 
Andreiev. He, too, is a pacifist, and his "■ Red Laugh," 
published during^^the Russo-Japanese War, testifies 
to his strongly anti-war sentiments. But since the 
beginning of this war Leonid Andreiev has become 
decidedly pro- Ally and pro-war, in the sense denounced 
and derided by Gorki in Russia — and by Bernard Shaw 
in this country — that is, holding the war to be a 
struggle for freedom and culture. When in Andreiev's 
appeal one reads this passage : " Was it worth while 
to intervene for Belgian neutrality, to defend Serbia, 
to weep over Louvain and the Lusitania' ?" and so on, 
one must keep in mind, that Leonid Andreiev reallv 
found it "worth while " and *' wept " over it, with 
all loval Russia, i.e.. with an overwhelming majority. 
In his " Confessions of a Little Man during Great 
Days " he presents us with a specimen of this majority 
— a man in the street, first indifferent and sceptical 
toward the war, then surprised to find himself morally 
touched by events, and, finally, ready to recognise their 
'■ greatness " and to share the responsibility for them 
as a '■ cell " of a great human orofanism. In order 
especially to emphasise the part of Belgium in the war 
for ■■ liberation " Leonid Andreiev has written a play, 
" The Sorrows of Belsfium." whose Russian title is 
borrowed from *'"' La Brabanconne," " King, Law and 

Liberty." That is why in his present appeal the reader 
has not to do with an opponent — not to say with an 
enemy — but with a friend, sincere and straightforward. 
By his antecedents, cited above, as well as by his 
position as an exponent of democratic opinion, Leonid 
Andreiev is fully entitled to speak, not only on his own 
behalf, but also in the name of all loyal Russia, faithful 
to the Allies. 

#^ ^ M, ^ ^ 

^ 'TV- ^ "TV" W 

Why then does the voice of this friend sound so bitter, 
so disappointed, and as if all but driven to despair ? 
Why does Leonid Andreiev feel obliged to tell his reader 
the "bitter truth," that "he must gather all his 
strength " to preserve his faith, his former unwavering 
and unclouded belief in the Allies? Here I must point 
out again that what Leonid Andreiev feels and utters 
IS felt by the vast majority of Russian public opinion. 
His thrilling address is meant to be an appeal for help. 
But it is also a warning and a testimony to the chang- 
ing state of mind in Russia toward the Allies. 

We come here to the third point in these introductory 
remarks. What has Russia (I always mean : loyal 
Russia) expected from her Allies? What has she- 
received instead? 

It is much easier for me to touch on this delicate- 
question after the important debate on Russia in the 
House of Commons on April 9, 1919. Should Leonid 
Andreiev read the report of this debate, I am sure he 
will be greatly relieved and satisfied. The House has 
formally and conclusively repudiated any solidarity 
with the Bolsheviks. And the chief reason which 
induced Leonid Andreiev to raise his desperate call 

not to the Governments of the Entente, but to the 
people of Europe," was that terrible blunder of the 
Prinkipo proposal, that put loyal Russia on the same 
moral level with Russia's " murderers and hangmen." 

The reader will hear from Leonid Andreiev himself 
the optimistic views of starving Petrograd immediately 
after the armistice of November 11, 1918, as to the 
coming of Allied troops to Russia's rescue. I can only 

state that this was also the view of the whole of non- 
Bolshevist Russia. Owing to the absence of informa- 
tion public opinion in Russia has been kept entirely in 
the dark as to the state of mind in Allied countries. 
The psychology of the troops returning home to rest, 
as well as the active propaganda against armed inter- 
vention and a '" second war," have remained unnoticed. 
Neither have we known anything about the half-hearted 
and wavering policy of the Allied Governments in the 
face of this attitude of public opinion. We had not 
the slio^htest idea that the verv existence of a loval 
Russia, engaged in war against the Bolshevist ally of 
Germany, could be a matter for doubt, and that the 
iee^al recognition of this loval and allied Russia could 
meet with difficulties, owing to the strange idea, that 
recognition of an allied government may mean " inter- 
ference in the internal affairs " of Russia. That is why 
the news " from the Eiff'el Tower " about Prinkipo 
came to Russia like a bolt from the blue. At the first 
moment nobody would believe it, not even the 
Bolsheviks. What hurt pro-Ally feelings in Russia 
j)articularly was not the refusal to send armed forces 
to Russia. That might be understood and agreed to 
as a temporary psychological impossibility. But the 
identification of traitors to the allied cause with such 
as remained faithful to the alliance, of German agents 
with loyal Russia still waging war against them — not 
for herself alone, but for the common cause of the Allies 
— the identification of '' torturers and their victims " 
— that was more than a loyal Russian could bear — if 
even he did not know of Mr. Lloyd George's comparison 
of two fighting ' ' factions ' ' in Russia with some 
" Indian tribes quarrelling on the North-Western 
frontier* of India." The whole ideology of the allied 
war was thus thrown to the winds. The idea of " non- 
intervention " could not possibly fit into the mind of 
the Russian ally, because he saw its ambiguity only too 
clearly. Xot to intervene on the side of loyal Russia 
simply meant intervention on the opposite, the 
Bolshevist side. The disheartening effect of this 
theoretical " non-intervention " has been felt but too 
keenlv in the ranks of the anti-Bolshevist armies. This 

is why the Prinkipo proposal was equivalent, not only 
to moral, but even to material assistance to the enemy. 
Taken in connection with the non-recognition of the 
anti-Bolshevist governments and the exclusion of the 
Russian delegates from the Peace Conference, it was 
ielt, indeed, as a " betrayal." 

The Prinkipo proposal was made at the end of 
January. But even now, at the end of April, when 
these lines are written, the force of Leonid Andreiev's 
appeal remains unchanged. It is true, on April 9 the 
House of Commons repudiated the Bolsheviks, and on 
April 16 Mr. Llovd George stated before the House 
that the question of recognition of the Bolshevik 
government "' has never been proposed, never dis- 
cussed." But America's standpoint still remains 
obscure, while the answer of the " Four " in Paris to 
Xansen's proposal to feed Bolshevist Russia is, prac- 
tically, a mitigated variation of the Prinkipo proposal. 
Does not, indeed, the condition laid down by the 
" Four '■ — viz., the cessation of hostilities — reveal a 
persistent disregard of the nature of Bolshevism and, 
en the other hand, is it not equivalent to the " truce " 
of the Prinkipo proposal, intended for both fighting 
sides without distinction ? Mr. Llovd George's cautious 
expressions m his last speech of April 16 convev the 
same impression. According to him, there exist only 
de facto governments in different parts of Russia, 
which do not cover the whole country, and even the 
help given to some of these governments is excused on 
the pretext that they fight only " for their own protec- 
tion and freedom in a land where Bolshevism is anti- 
pathetic to the feelings of the population." Well, we 
Russians claim the recognition of a de jiu^e, not a de 
facto government for the whole of Russia; we think, 
and indeed we know, that Bolshevism in general is 

anti-pathetic ' ' to the population all over Russia — 
much more so under the reign of Bolshevist chaos and 
anarchy — and vv^ insist on the fact, that Kolchak and 
Denikin do not fight " for their own protection," but 
for the liberation of the whole of Russia and for the 
restoration of its unitv. As long as all this remains 
unrecognised, Leonid Andreiev's appeal will not 


be untimelv. On the contrary, it is particularly 
timelv and^ important in these days, when m the 
mind'of the Russian people fresh blows are being dealt 
to the prestige of the Allies by their forces being 
driven from Odessa and from Sebastopol by the 
Bolsheviks. The lack of knowledge of Russia is par- 
ticularlv shown bv disproportionate attention paid to 
insignificant skirmishes m such remote and isolated 
corners of Russia, as Murmansk and Archangel, as 
compared with great engagements in the best and 
richest provinces of Russia, which are dismissed m 
embarrassed silence. Shall I point out once more that 
the extreme disappointment reflected in Leonid 
Andreiev's Appeal will not grow less, nay, rather will 
it greatlv increase so long as the absence of any policy 
whatever towards Russia and the continued postpone- 
ment of the onlv reasonable solution bring about new 
disasters both for Russia and for the AlHed cause ? 


^ # * ^ ^ 

What will be the result of further negligence of the 
Russian problem? A view of this subject, which is 
becominc^ popula/in this countrv. has found expression 
in the "clebate of April 9. Mr. C. Edwards said: 
*^ Leave Russia in a state of anarchy, formally and 
diplomaticallv recognise that state of anarchy— and 
Germanv will organise Russia, and through Russia. 
China, and instead of vour having the combination, as 
we had in this war, of ^ the Central Powers of Germanv 
and Austria and Turkey, you are to have a vast popula- 
tion, infinitely greater than that which we had to face, 
dominated from the Xorth Sea by Germany right awav 
to the Pacific Ocean and down through China, and i 
warn the Government, that that is a real danger which 

some of us contemplate with awe.'" I shall 

Jet this argument speak for itself. Leonid Andreiev, 
as I have mentioned, is not a politician, nor is he a 
diplomatist. His appeal is a warning, but not because 
he meant it to be such. It is a warning because it is a 
"human document '" reflecting very faithfully the 
process that is going on now in the Russian mind. 


Neither does Andreiev wish to close with a threat. 
On the contrary, he contrives to remain hopeful 
as regards the final issue. But the object of his hope 
is now diiJerent from the former. Xo more does he 
address the governments after their message from the 
height of the Eiffel Tower (the Prinkipo proposal). He 
does not even address the peoples — as national units 
pursuing each their policy. He seeks for his last refuge 
— as he always does — in an appeal to ' ' men, " to human 
beings, independently of their being French, or British, 
or American citizens. His point of view is now^ exclu- 
sively human. He shows all the human suffering caused 
by the Bolshevist misrule, wrongly considered as a 
"revolution." And he points out that there are 
happenings and doings which, after all, cannot be 
treated and ignored as being the " internal affairs " of 
a country. It is with satisfaction that I can say that 
on this subject, at least, i.e., on the moral and political 
value of Bolshevism, the opinion in this country is much 
more unanimous now than it was two or three months 
ago. It practically coincides with that of Leonid 
Andreiev. Andreiev himself declines to make any 
detailed description of the state of things in Bolshevist 
Russia: he takes the knowledge of it for granted. 
Whoever wants facts may now find them officially 
stated by the British Government in a White 
Paper. ^ But I sincerely hope that even those 
who are unwilling to take sides in a political 
dispute and who profess inability to discriminate 
between truth and error in the numerous reports on the 

misdeeds of the Bolsheviks, mav be touched bv 

- I, \j 

Andreiev's direct address to their moral sense. 

In addition to what Leonid Andreiev has to say on 
Russia's moral claims for help, there is one more 
claim which I may be permitted to recall to the 
reader's memory, not in my own words, but in 
those spoken by General Page Croft, M.P., during 
the memorable debate of April 9th. " May we 
not," he said to the House, " when there is any talk 
whatever of discussing this question with the Bolshe- 

* A Collection of Reports on Bolshevism in Russia " (Russia, N = "1, 1919). 

Tists, take our memories back to what Russia has done 
for us ? When we were hard pressed in the early weeks of 
the war, the whole strength of Russia was thrown into 
East Prussia, and saved Paris and the Channel ports 
with ill-equipped and unarmed forces, that went with 
a heroism which has been rarelv known in military 
history. The United States mourn their dead, and 
Prance, and Belgium, and Serbia, and Italy, and other 
countries, mourn their dead, and we in this country 
made great sacrifices, but may I not remind the House, 
that if you put all the losses of all the Allies together 
they do' not equal what Russia lost on behalf of the 
Allies. When I say Russia, I mean the real Russia 
which is being starved to death now by these people." 
This is the Russia on behalf of which we ask for active 
svmpathv on the part of British public opinion. 

s. o. s. 

Leonid Andrei ev. 

The attitude which the Allied Governments have 
assumed with regard to tormented Russia is either 
betrayal or madness. 

Either they know the nature of the Bolsheviks, whom 
they have invited to the Prinkipos Islands for making 
peace with a wounded, dying Russia, torn asunder by 
their own hands — in which case, it is simple betrayal, 
differing from other examples of the kind by its 
universal proportions. That element of unexpected- 
ness, which so sharply amazed all believers in the 
justice and clemency of the Allies, is common to all 
such affairs : all betrayals are unexpected, and if the 
divine Jesus knows well, whither and wherefore 
departs Judas, nevertheless all his disciples continue 
to remain in happy ignorance to the very moment of 
the classical kiss. I am not prepared, however, to 
enter into the psychology of betrayal : its nature is well 
known to us all; as for the setting, in place of the 
gentle kiss, you have the wireless and the Eiffel Tower 
— it naturally changes and progresses with the time, 
without essentially creating any new values. Nor is 
there need to pause on the aims of betrayal, they have 
always been the same since the days of Judas : Golgotha 
for one, silver pieces for another. Sometimes, again, 
there is a rope . . . but that, of course, concerns the 
pathology of betrayal, and not its normal and sound 

Or else, the case is such : the Allies do not know the 
nature of the Bolsheviks, whom they have invited for 
a friendly talk — and in that case, it is madness. 
Because now, after one and a half years of domination 
by the Bolsheviks in Russia, and their activities in 
Germany and other countries, only a madman is 
mcapable of knowing what force of evil and destruc- 


s. o. s. 

lion is represented by these savages of Europe, against 
whose culture, laws and morals they have risen. One 
must be wholly ignorant of the difference between truth 
and falsehood, the possible and the impossible, not to 
understand the simple and clear conduct, actions and 
appetites of Bolshevism. One must be without eves 
as the blind, or having eyes see naught with them not 
to distins^uish on the face of this huo^e Russia, now 
turned to barren ash, the fire, murder, destruction, 
the graveyard, the prisons, the madhouses, to which 
hunger and horror have reduced the whole city of 
Petros^rad, ave, and manv others like it. One must 
be whollv without ears, or, having: ears, hear naus^ht 
with them, not to hear the sobs and groans, the lament 
of women, the whimper of children, the hoarse outcrv 
of the stransfled, the unbroken rattle of the execu- 
tioners* rifles, that for the last year and a half have 
been the ceaseless sons: of Russia. One must be whollv 
ignorant of the difference between truth and falsehood, 
the possible and the impossible, just as madmen are 
iraorant of it. not to feel the Bolshevist bra^ofadocio 
and their eternal lies, now dull and Mead, like the 
bellowing of a drunkard, like Lenin's decrees, now 
high-sounding and pompous like the speeches of that 
blood-bespattered jester, Trotsky, now unpretentiously 
simple and ingenuous, like the falsehood with which 

one fools little children, animals and peoples. 

In particular the hearing of the Allied Governments 
must be affected by a special and fatal infirmity not 
to be able to hear not only the wailings of Russia — 
for all the world is wailing — but also the voice, the 
intelligent and clear reports on the substance of 
Bolshevism, which were given to them by M. Xoulens. 
M. Scavenius and many other men worthy of 

Furthermore : one must be wholly without memory, 
as those deprived of their wits, to forget Lenin's sealed 
railway car, to forget how Russian Bolshevism came 
forth from the womb of the Lnperial German Bank 
and the criminal soul of William, to forget the peace 


S. 0. s. 

of Brest-Litovsk that was compassed by these same 
German agents, as the last possibility of triumph over 
the Entente. One must forget too Prussia and Galicia. 
drenched with Russian blood; forget Kornilov and 
Kaledin, victims fallen for duty and loyalty to their 
Allies, and Admiral Schastny, and Dukhonin, and 
Yaroslavl destroyed, and those lads of the military 
cadet corps and students who fell without faltering in 
their faith, in the name of Russia and in yours, our 
dear Allies; and those many thousands of Russian 
officers, who, for the same reason, are being hounded, 
killed and persecuted like dogs, and whom you — 
unwittingly, of course — have now so mercilessly 
humiliated bv vour tenderness towards murderers and 
hangmen. To fill the measure of forgetfulness there 
is need to forget also that Wilhelm, Wilhelm II., the 
German Emperor,'^ was preparing to lunch in Paris, 
and that only by a happy chance Mr. Wilson is lunch- 
ing there, having crossed two oceans : the Atlantic — 
and the ocean of Russian blood, shed in defence of the 
Allied cause. Further, one must be wholly without 
sense of virtue and even of simple order, wholly unable 
to discern between cleanliness and dirt, as are those 
bereft of sense, of using filth in one's food, of washing 
oneself with slops instead of water — in order to 
swallow with a pleasant smile, as if it were a sugared 
pineapple, all those humiliations, mockeries, scornful 
derisions and candid rebuffs, with which were rewarded 
the representatives of all the Allied nations in the 
Bolshevist Petrograd. I do not speak of the arrest 
of the Roumanian Ambassador, M. Diamandi, which 
at the time had aroused the protest even of the 
Abyssinians : M. Diamandi did not represent a suffi- 
ciently " great power " that he should be taken for 
mad for having modestly and with dignity remained 
silent. I do not speak of the Swiss Minister and other 
minor powers whose innocent neutrality had suffered 
at the impudent hands of the Bolshevik. I dare not 
speak of Mr. Wilson, who, at the proper time, in 
answer to his sympathetic wireless message to the 


S. 0. s. 

young Soviet Government, had received an altogether 
savage and fervent '' slap in the face " from Zinovief! : 
for a Christian and humanitarian this is but an occa- 
sion for offering the other cheek, a proceeding now 
indeed before our eyes. But — the assault and murder 
in the British Embassy and the subsequent proclama- 
tion putting British citizens outside the law ? 

And finallv : having eyes and ears, having judgment 
.and will, one"^ must be either savage like the Bolsheviks 
themselves or suffer from some moral infirmity to 
remain unmoved at their"' inhuman conduct and call 
it bv anv other name than crime, murder, lies and 
Tobberv/ One must be without human feeling, bestial 
or insanely immoral, to call " internal affairs '' such 
incidents as a powerful scoundrel violating a woman, 
or a cruel mother torturing a child— and not interfere 
on the pretext that the said actions by a certain group 
of people are called " Socialism " or " Communism.'' 
There are words which are sacred, and great is their 
fascination for the living human soul, but when these 
wicked buffoons call their ignorant, savage Chinamen, 
iired for murder, '' the advance guard of the Chinese 
revolutionarv democracy" — one must have not a 
living but a dead soul to fall into so miserable and 
impudent a trap. Here, under the impudent tinsel 
of current terms, the essence of the matter is being 
concealed : which is, the hiring of savage yellow-faced 
murderers for the extermination of Europeans — a 
thing hitherto unheard of in the chronicles of the worst 
European tvrannv. . . . And it is terrible to think that 
alreadv for a vear past crazed Europe has looked open- 
eyed upon these exotic wild beasts, who are being fed 
with our bodies, and is yet unable to mmgine what is 
before her : "the advance guard of democracy," or the 
advance guard of devils, let loose from hell for the 
destruction of the unhappy earth. It is they who have 
been called to the Prinkipo Island. 

In short, to fail to understand the Bolshevik, one 
must be a human being deprived of seeing and hearing, 
memorv and consciousness, reason and will, a human 

S. 0. s. 

being suffering with dirty and dull moral insanity. Xo 
one, however, would be willing to admit the thought 
that the heads of the greatest contemporary Govern- 
ments have been simply patients from a madhouse. 
Their names, well known to the whole world, their 
energetic and fully sensible activity in the course of the 
war, finally, the respect borne them until now even by 
their enemies, make such a thought not merely absurd 
and inadmissible, but even offensive. Of course, thev 
are not madmen. 

But if this is not madness, then what^ 

However clear the unavoidable inference, I have as 
vet some hesitation in makinsr it. Life does not alwavs 
conform to a stern and straight-ruled logic. The 
bases of human actions are so complex and diverse — 
in particular, the art of politics, which, like black 
magic, is so dark and subtle a matter that even here, 
apart from the two suggested explanations, betrayal 
or madness, can exist even other cogent motives, which 
become lost in a labyrinth oi loud words, in the sump- 
tuousness of decorations and in the solemnity of 
luncheons, top-hat receptions, processions and excur- 
sions to ruins. Reassuringly, in all photographs, 
gaze at me Mr. Wilson's teeth, displaying a broad and 
iovous smile, and manv other such smilincr teeth ac- 
company him — but I have not the fullest confidence in 
the candidness of this reassuring and unconcerned 
smile. Is Mr. Wilson's soul as clear as his photo- 
graphic face? Are Mr. Lloyd George's thoughts as 
calm and certain as the expression of his photographic 
eyes? Are there not some secret fears, some unsolved 
waverings, some sort of confused indecision, based on 
some indefinite calculations ? 

In such case there need be no direct betrayal in 
order that what has happened should happen, and that 
the danciuCT murderer-Bolshevik should iournev to the 
beautiful islands. And — returning to the Gospels, so 
dear to Mr. \Vilson — is it not better to replace the clas- 
sical and fearful image of Judas by another image, not 
less classical, but infinitely more simple, more wide- 


S. 0. s. 

spread and humanly common, namely, that of Pilate 
\yashing his hands ? 

Pilate knew that Jesus was a just man. Even his 
wife forewarned him of this. Xor was he mad, or 
mean, but he was — Pilate. And, saying: '"I am 
innocent of the blood of this just person,"' as a token 
of this he washed his hands and sent the just man for 
judgment to Caiaphas. Caiaphas sent him to Annas,^ 
Annas back to Caiaphas. . . . Does not the sending of 
Russia to the Prinkipo Islands remind one of this 
wandering among honest judges — with a rope around 
one's neck? Thou, too, Russia, wander on, until thou 
come to the cross \ Xot guilty of thy blood is either 
Mr. Wilson or Mr. Lloyd George — has not the whole 
world seen that they have washed their hands { All 
have seen, and many obligingly have assisted them 
with the towel. 

However : was it worth while to shout so loudlv in the 
beginning in order to end with the Pilate-like falsetto ? 
Was it worth while to intervene for Belgian neutrality, 
to defend Serbia, to raise millions upon millions of 
men, to shed a sea of blood, to threaten Germanv with 
the Last Judgment for her inhumanity, to weep over 
Louvain and the "' Lusitania," to make vows and to 
call to heaven, for five years to beat one's breast before 
the god of humanitv— and to end before the wash- 
basin? Bewitched' by speeches, declarations and 
oaths, as the most radiant hohday, as the resurrection 
of all the dead, the world awaited the victory of the 
Entente: it was also awaited by the dead, whose lives 
went to the purchase of the costly triumph. Men had 
believed that the victory of these gentlemen who talked 
so well of good and evil would usher in Righteousness 
itself upon the earth: that the peace achieved by them 
would be a true joeace, and not a new blood, fire and 
torment, the destruction of the defenceless, the limit of 
human suffering. 

And when across the bloody earth sounded the bell 
of victorv, how manv pale faces lit up with a smile of 
hope and happiness; how dark and distorted became the 


S. 0. s. • 

evil faces of the murderers, terrified before the face of 
the risen Law. Those were incredibly beautiful, fan- 
tastic days, in which the gloomy, tormented Petrograd 
smiled, and believed in the Englishman as in God; 
those were strange and happy dreams, reveries of 
martyr-like madness, v/hen at every sound of a shot 
men thought of an English gun and ran to the Neva 
to have a look, to see the English fleet, which "had 
arrived in the night." And the murderers trembled; 
it was but enough to show merely a scarecrow of an 
Englishman to make all this Caindom flee in panic. 
But . . . what came of it all ? 

The living and the dead have been duped. With 
absurd stubbornness you pursue the old, impotent Wil- 
helm, in order to judge him for the sins of his people; 
friendlily you stretch out a hand to the robust youn^ 
murderers and thieves, deformed monsters, who 
continue to shed the blood of the innocent. Yes, it 
flows senselessly and horribly, and in this senselessness 
there is terror and crime, worse than in the five-year 
war. And the tenderly-treated murderer has taken a 
new lease of life, and mocks at you, and is no longer 
afraid even of the living Englishman, considering him 
no more than a scarecrow. 

" The war is ended. Not a single murder more. 
Lay down your arms.'' That is the stern and clement 
order which men had expected from the Entente and 
its strength, crovsrned with victory. Instead, there is 
the low hissing of expiring humaneness, with which 
Mr. Wilson has sprinkled the glowing coals. . . and 
blood, blood, blood. As before shots ring out, some 
5ire taking and some are giving up towns, someone is 
t)eing beaten and hacked to pieces, something is being 
laid waste and destroyed. With the force of a forest 
rire, blown by a hurricane, the bloodv and senseless 
mutiny spreads, creeps along under the earth, blazes 
up behind one's back and on the sides, throws sparks 
into straw — and there is not enough resistance left in 
enfeebled Europe, her nerves shattered by five years of 
privation, and not having yet crossed the boundary of 


S. 0. s. 

psychical agitation created by the war, and which is 
now turning all the European masses into groups of 
unbalanced people, into an impressionable and helpless 
object for the most savage suggestion. The indecision 
and inner duality of the leaders of " world policy,*' 
hindering them from placing themselves quickly and 
decisively on one side or another, draws them more 
and more into the murderous embrace of Mutiny, 
which has already strangled the Revolution in Russia, 
IS strangling it in Germany. If not to-day, then to- 
morrow all Europe — and after Europe America — will 
be turned into an arena of murder and pillage, a war 
against all. To-day Berlin is without electricity, 
to-morrow London will be without coal. More weeks 
will pass — who knows ? — it is possible that all commu- 
nications will stop, that steamships loaded with bread 
will pause in their harbours, and bony hunger shall 
reign over Europe, sweeping away the last living 
remains of the innocent and the guilty. 

In such a manner does Fate take vengeance for the 
violation of vows, such as have been made by the 
Entente before the' god of Humanity. Yes, they have 
been violated before the world in that fatal moment 
when, from its heights, the Eiffel Tower began to send 
out the invitation both to the murderers and the 
victims; and this was confirmed by those honest Rus- 
sian leaders, who, with scorn and horror, rejected the 
hypocritical, cowardly and pernicious invitation. 
Duped are the living and the dead, and only one thing 
one must implore of cruel Eate : that she grant time 
for reflection — if it is not too late — that she withhold 
if but for an instant her avenging hand. . . and that 
she refrain from accomplishing the gloomy forebodings 
of such as have already seen the ruin of their native 

Not to the Governments of the Entente, who have 
already said their painful word, do I turn with my 
crying prayer : '' Save Our Souls " (S.O.S). No, not 
to^them, but to You, people of Europe, in whose nobility 
I unalterablv believe, as I have always believed. 


S. 0. s. 

Like a wireless operator on a sinking steamer that 
through the night and the darkness sends the last calls, 
" Quickly, to our aid. We are sinking. Save Our 
Souls," so also I, moved by my faith in human clem- 
ency, throw into the dark space my prayer of perish- 
ing human beings. If you but knew how dark the 
night is around us, there are no words to describe this 

Whom do I call? I do not know. But does the 
wireless operator know whom he calls ? It is possible 
that for a thousand miles the sea is deserted and 
that there is no living soul to hear his prayer. The 
night is dark. It is possible that someone in the dis- 
tance will hear the prayer, and say to himself : " Why 
should I go so far? I might perish myself," — and 
then continues his nocturnal, invisible path. But he 
believes, and he calls persistently, to the very last 
moment, as long as there is a glimmer of light, and 
the powerless radio has not yet become silent for 

In what does he believe? 

He believes in man, even as I. He believes in tho 
law of human love and life : it 7nust not be that one man 
should not help another when he is perishing. It 
cannot be that one man, without struggle or aid, shall 
deliver up another to the sea and to death. It cannot 
be that no one should come to the aid of him w^ho calls. 
Someone must come. I do not know his name, but I 
discern clearly his human features, his soul, akin to 
mine. Through the cold and the gloom I almost feel the 
warm contact of his energetic and friendly hand, tense 
w^ith the will to assist and with human sympathy. I 
perceive this tvill to assist, which makes his muscles 
tense, his vision keen, and gives light and decision to 
his quick and firm human mind. I see him, I know 
him, I await him — that is maii. 

Not in order that he might assist the Russian people 
do I call to him . That is too great a thing : the 
Russian people, that it might be saved : God alone has 
power over its life and death. In these sad days, 


S. 0. s. 

\Yhen the contempt, the humiliation and the mockery 
of fools have fallen to the lot of sick and prostrate 
Russia, I for one bear with great pride the name of 
Eussum, and believe firmly in Russia's glorious future. 
I believe as firmly in your future, noble France, and 
]n yours, Germany, our conquered enemy, and in 
vours, wise old Europe, the mother of the world, 
mother of us all. Such a colossus as the Russian 
people cannot perish. Whether the Governments of 
the Entente shall come to the aid of its ally Russia, or 
leave her to extricate herself from the foul quagmire, 
Russia at the determined hour will arise from her 
deathbed, and go forth radiantly, and bv her right 
take up her place among the great nations of the earth. 
That which is so terrible for us, small mortal people, 
living for an instant, is but as a single heart-beat for 
the great and immortal nation. A hundred thousand 
more or less who will have perished, several years more 
or less of suffering — what does that mean for Russia, 
with her great and inscrutable destiny ? 

No, it is not assistance for the Russian people that 
I implore vou, O man. But here are these thousands 
'' more or less *' who have but one life, which is but as 
an instant, and who are perishing every hour in un- 
bearable suffering, or who live, but in .a way which is 
worse than death. It is of no importance that they 
are called ^-Russians," but it is of importance that 
these humcai leings. whose sufferings have begun so 
long ago and continue endlessly, continue without a 
gleam of light, as in a real hell, from which there is no 
wav out, and over which malignant, terrible forces 
rule unchallenged. There is still time to shorten their 
sufferings, there is still time to remove the menace of 
death from their heads, and it is for the saving of 
their souls that I send forth my human prayer. 

Mv friend, I will not begin to tell you how painful 
and terrible it is for us in Russia now, or in our 
martvred Petrograd. I could not tell vou if I wanted 
to. All that I would trv to say would be pale and 
insio-nificant beside actualitv. In order to be able to 


S. 0. s. 

tell you, one need have words, and words now, like 
money, have become counterfeit, and are no longer 
worth the value they proclaim : whole mountains of 
verbal falsehood have accumulated in the world, and 
under this mass the true word appears feeble and 
withered, and lost among a thousand monstrous 
shadows. How may one open one's lips for j^rayer 
when drunken Satan himself officiates at the altar ? 
Suppose I speak a word : terror — murder — blood . . . 
what will it mean to the ear, which in the course of 
five years has hardly heard any other words? Sup- 
pose I should attempt to describe the horrors of dying 
Petroc^rad — will it not sound somewhat old, alreadv 
told at some time, and, at the worst, will it not seem 
like a sorry invention of a novelist, a pathetic exagp'er- 
ation of an advocate who is exerting himself fo/* his 
client ? 

Xo, I will not attempt to tell you either of the quan- 
tity or quality of our sufferings : enough words have 
already been said by others, and there are no new 
words in the human speech. But one peculiarity of 
these sufferings I will permit myself to mention, and 
that is : the feeling of defencelessness on the part of 
self, and the feeling of impunitij on the part of the 
murderer. It is not so terrible a thing to die or to 
undergo sufferings, verging on death, when you feel 
behind you the hand of the Law, which, in one wav or 
another, sooner or later, will not allow the shedding 
of your blood to go by unpunished, will not consider 
you merely as a bottle of cider, which a careless 
drunkard, passing by, may spill on the pavement. It 
is not a terrible thing to die, while you still believe 
in the murderer's conscience, in which you suppose, 
sooner or later, he will find his punishment. It is 
not a terrible thing to die, but unbearingly painful to 
sufi'er, when this happens on the open market-place, 
in broad daylight, before the indifferent eyes of men, 
and of Heaven itself, and to know as vou die that 
there is no 'conscience in the murderer, that he is well- 
fed, happv and rich, that under the cover of false 


S. 0. s. 

words, far from suffering punishment, he will earn 
•some one's ajDplause, some one's respect and profound 
admiration. It is a terrible thing when little children 
are hungry and dying, the murderers are eating to 
satietv and Trotsky is gulping down his throat the 
]ast bottle of milk. ' It is a terrible thing to know that 
for the dead there are not enough graves in Petro- 
grad, while for this gentry the roads are open not 
onlv to the Prinkipo Islands, but to the whole world, 
that with their stolen wealth they have access to all 
the best climates, all the best places of the venal earth. 
It is unbearable, while dying, to think that on some 
one's inhuman scales you weigh no more than a midge, 
and that your precious life is cast out of the world, hke 


I do not know to what extent my faith in ma?i can 
lind a response in the martyred Petrograd : the?^e 
thev barelv believe not only in man, but even in God. 
And that means that, having lost all faith in human 
and divine justice, the unpunished trampling down of 
all the higher qualities of the human soul makes the 
suffering greater and incomparably more intense than 
the ph^'sical torments in the ^Bolshevist torture 
chambers. It is because of this that all of us are 
ahnost mad, it is because of this that even the more 
steadfast of- us are separated merely by a fine line from 
despair and suicide. It is hard to preserve life — it is 
almost happiness to be released from life. 

Who knows— perhaps even this, my appeal to you. 
is also madness, by which I have been seized no less 
than the others : perhaps ijou do not exist at all and 
I am clutching with my hands only at the phantom of 
man . . .t No, I do believe in you, but wilktell you 
the bitter truth : all my strength I must gather for this 
faith, for this misplaced lamentation, the whole futility 
of which appears so clear to my mind at moments. 
But no, I still beheve in you— act then, man, in such 
a wav that mv faith might also become the faith of 
those unfortunates, who at this very moment are 
strugghng with despair in the inscrutable darkness of 


S. 0. s. 

IVtrorrrad, and are already liftint^ a hand, in order to 
kill themselves and their chiMren. A hiunan soul is 

My friend, rise and stretch out a hand to lis. Every 
individual Frenehnian — \ turn to vou and call to vou. 
What if your leaders are weak or in error — repair their 
error, and with your strength increase and reinforce 
their strength. Kven as an infant I learned to love 
and resfXH't you, I'renclunan, and to seek in the history 
of your life models of chivalry and great-spirited 
noi)ility It is of you that I have learned of lilH*rty» 
equality and fraternity, and I have lived with them 
all my life, and wish to die with them. I have wept 
with you when theiJerman hordes tramf)led upon vour 
beautiful 1 ranee, and 1 kn"u tli.jf \<'ii will not laugh 
now at mv pr(»sent tears. 

And you. every individual Englishman — I turn to 
you -save our souls. It was you. who. in your tongue, 
have created this call, which has l)ecome the law on all 
the seas and (.•omj)e!s all the ships to turn their prows 
towards tiie peri.^hing ship -you will not allow lier to 
call in vani. When ( lermany sang out. full throated. 
her hatred of you. there was already in her voice the 
tremor of fear ami the consciousness of inevitable 
disaster : she knew that you are that man whose word 
is akin to law and that your promise is as good as 
performance. It is enough to say but one word, man, 
in order to recognise the' Englishman. Rise then, man. 
and stretch out a han<l ; human beings are perisliing 
here, women an«l children. 

And you. every individual American — I call to you. 
You are young and rich, you are broad in spirit and 
energetic, you desire that the torch of your f>eedom 
shall throw its light on distant Euro})e also — come then 
and see, in what agony we are, in what inhuman servi- 
tude our bodv and spirit are struE^^j^line:. If vou would 
but see, T assure you, you would be terrified and you 
would curse those deceivers and liars who have repre- 
sented this most evil tyranny to you as a break on the- 
part oi the whole Russian people for liberty. 


s. o. s. 

And you, every individual Italian, and you, 
Japanese, Swede, Hindu, and whoever else it might 
be : there are noble men among all nations, and I call 
to every man — every one individually. For the time 
has come when not for a piece of land, not for mastery 
and money, but for man, for his victory over the wild 
.beast, the men of the whole earth must struggle. 
Please understand, that it is not Revolution, that which 
IS happening in Russia, that which has already begun 
in Germanv and going farther — it is Chaos and Dark- 
ness, evoked by the war from its dark cellars and armed 
by the saiiie war for the destruction of the world. 

Let your indecisive (jovernments give arms and 
money — you, men, give yourselves, your strength, 
courage and nobility. Let bins who is tired rest, let 
the faint-hearted one retire to his warm hole, let him 
sleep who can sleep in such a terrible night, but you, 
who are strong and are not tired, in whom beats n 
courageous heart — vnn f/ri to help the pe'.rJ»> who are 
perishing in Russia 

Organise yourselves. 

Only a strongly organised, intelligent force is capable 
of struggling with the boundless Chaos, with the form- 
less, spreading, all-permeating Mutiny. Fire is not 
to be quenched with fire, and every armed, but not 
firmly organised, unintelligent crowd, going forth to 
tight against the mutiny, would itself fall victim to the 
mutinv and onlv intensifv the flames. Strongrlv ques- 
tion yourselves, go only with the clear consciousness of 
your high purpose, otherwise you yourselves will perish 
on the way. \ot drunkards must be .^ent to guard 
wine cellars, not the blind are to be entrusted with 
the watch of light-house signals. 

Organise yourselves. 

F'orm battalions and armies. I believe that in this 
you will have the assistance of vour Governments, 
whose indecision would vanish before your noble will. 
Small, insufficient and solitary forces, such as are 
fighting the Bolsheviks, only cause the lengthening of 
the struggle and the needless shedding of human blood. 

S. 0. s. 

Bare Reason has no power over them : that means 
Socrates against the machine gun. They recognise 
only force, and they are capable of submitting only to 
force. Every weakness, if but the weakness of an 
infant or a woman, only strengthens them; blood feeds 
their passions and gaiety. But against an organised 
and firm force they will fall quietly — without firing a 
shot, w^ithout that opposition which murder and blood 
inevitably arouse in them. Thev will simply cease to 
exist, they will fade away, as darkness before light — 
who has ever killed darkness ? There shall be no need 
of killing it — and this great happiness you will achieve 
Dy force. Organise yourselves. 

My last call is to you, journalist, whosoever you may 
be, an Englishman, an American, or a Frenchman : 
support my prayer for perishing human beings. I 
know : hundreds of millions of money are being spent 
m buying the Press, thousands of Presses are fabricat- 
ing and throwing out lies, thousands of liars are shout- 
ing, clamouring, muddying the water, peopling the 
w^orld with monstrous phantoms and masks, among 
which the living human face becomes lost. The air 
itself has been bought and is full of lies : this false wire-» 
less, which, with its devilish circles, is entangling every 
newspaper office, this news of the night, which impor- 
tunately knocks on the door, creeps into one's ears, and 
muddles one's conscience. But I know another thing : 
that just as there are human beings among the bipeds, 
so there are also human beings among journalists, 
those, to whom Ions: since has been attributed the name 
of the Knights of the Holy Ghost, those who write not 
with ink, but with their nerves and their blood — it is to 
them that I turn ... to each one individually, each 
one individually. Help! You know in what danger 
IS man — help ! 

But quickly. Quickly. 

What else shall I say to you, my friend ? Quickly — 
come quickly. 

Leonid Andreiev. 


No Compromise Russia United 
with Bolshevism. and Free. 

The Russian Liberation Committee's Publica- 
tions ready and in the Press (*) : 

1. Russia Under the Bolsheviks, 

by I. V. Shklovsky (Dioneo), 6d. net. 

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4. London under the Bolsheviks, 

A Dream, by John Cournos, 3d. net. 

5. *Why Soviet Russia is Starving, 

by A. Tyrkova- Williams, 6d. net. 

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7. *The Story of Denikin's Army, 

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1. Conditions in Soviet Russia. 

2. Prinkipo. 

3. The Terror in Being. 

4. Situation in Siberia (with Supplement: '' Declara- 

tion of Admiral Kolchak's Government"). 

5. Soviets and Entente (with Supplement : " Proposal 

of Russian Political Committee to Paris Con- 
ference "). 

6. Story of Denikin's Army (with Supplement : " Con- 

siderations on the Eastern Frontiers of Poland"). 

7. What Russia Has Done for the Common Cause. 

8. Kolchak and Public Opinion. 

9. Little Russia. 

10. The Red Army from the Inside. 

IL How Bolsheviks retreat. Letter from Petrograd. 

Any of the above Bulletins can be had gratis on application to the 
Secretary, Russian Liberation Committee, 173, Fleet Street, 

London, E.G. 4. 


ONj^ . ■••- " ^^^^ tJv 


^TjE o^r 

"T "^ \' 

I .;>:.'■•" n 

What Russia Has Done 

for the 
Common Cause. 

[)URING the War Russia mobilised 
18,450,000 men. Russia's losses 

were as follows:— 

Killed and died of wounds - 1,700,000 

Disabled - - . . 1,450,000 

Wounded .... 3,500,000 

Prisoners .... 2,500,000 

In its turn the Russian Army took 
3,500,000 of the enemy prisoners. 

Printed by The Avenue Press (L. Upcott Gill & Son, Ltd.), 
55-57, Drury Lane, London, W.C.2. 



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